


Not myself

by Silkythecat



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Big evil cooporations, Brainwashing, I'm Bad At Titles, Kidnapping, M/M, My First Fanfic, comments welcome, lets see how this goes, slow start
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silkythecat/pseuds/Silkythecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark feels attracted to his new friend jack, but can he ever admit his feelings to himself, let alone jack?<br/>Oh, and there's this whole problem that they've been kidnapped and taken to a big genericly evil cooperation too!<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1. Freedom

Marks PoV

It was at my panel at PAX East 2015 when I was first approached by them. It was going great! I was there with Bob and Wade on stage with me; and Sean, or at that time, better know as Jacksepticeye, a quickly growing channel, in the front row, along with various other youtubers. Running down the columns of the audience answering questions and all in all, having a great time! I always felt like I didn't deserve all this attention but since these people had PAYED to see me, I may as well perform to my best abilities; heck, someone even proposed in front of me!  
I was on my last trip back to the front, then minuets from the end when she put her hand up. After taking a quick check of the time, I chose her and held the mic for her to ask her question into. “Can I give you a kiss?”  
I was still so surprised and feeling undeserving but hey, I was feeling good and the panel was nearly over, so I nodded and replied “On the cheek”  
She smiled with delight and climbed over the few people between her and the isle, her zombie costume and bobbed black wig making her stand out anyway. Leaning down slightly so she could kiss me, I heard her whisper quickly, darkly, “Ten minutes after this panel, you and Sean are going to leave through the back entrance of this building where we will be waiting. If you’re not there, we’ll blow the place sky high, oh, and don't tell anyone!” then she kissed me, on the cheek and with her smile back in place, returned to her seat.  
It took me a while to comprehend what the girl had just told me, I put of talking for a while by asking Bob to do shit for a while. Who were they? Why did they want me and Jack? I couldn't think why and all too soon I had to finish the panel and close off the hour.

As everyone was filing out, I caught Jack's eye and called him over.  
“That was fook’n awesome!” He exclaimed as he approached. He was newest addition to the friendship I had with Bob and Wade, but it has been an instant click. Something about him was just so attractive… I could be his gorgeous smile that lit up his amazingly blue eyes, it could have been his passion and energy, a much needed boost of energy and volume to the game collab videos, whatever it was, I liked it. I know I shouldn’t, and last time I checked, I was damn straight, but fuck, Jack was cute.

I try to smile but the girls message is weighing on my mind, and it must have shown. “What's on ye mind, markimoo?”  
I sigh. I can't keep this from him.  
Walking away from Bob and Wade, trying to distance ourselves so to not be overheard, I relayed what the girl had whispered to me during those few seconds and watch him frown.  
“That's fook’n dark. What are we gonna do?”  
I sigh again. “There's not much we can. There must be hundreds of people here, we can't cause the death of so many…”  
“Ye never know, they may just be extremely over-obsessed subscribers” he suggests and I can't help but smile at the ever-optimistic Irishman.  
“I hope so, jackaboy. I hope so.”

Ten minutes later, Jack and I were stood outside the back entrance after reaching the conclusion that if things went pear-shaped, we could always call the cops, or at least the event security team. The zombie girl arrived about a minute later, arriving through the same door, while also conveniently blocking it, as two black cars with blacked out windows and an unmarked van drove round the building to stop in front of us.  
A man stepped out of the front car. About late thirties, with his sleek black hair giving the same amount of shine as the reflections on his sunglass, he smiles coldly. “Thank you for you cooperation, Mr Fischbach (he nodded to me) and Mr McLoughlin” (he nodded to Jack)  
Without giving us time to respond he carried on speaking- “I hope you continue to behave this well.”  
“What are ye talkin’ about, ye fo-!” Jack managed to shout out before a hand wrapped his head and clamped over this mouth, and a second later I find one over mine too.  
“Mmpgh!?” I try to exclaim but I'm forced to my knees by a good kick to the back of my legs and my hands and yanked behind my back and tied there. The hand is removed from my mouth but before I can even inhale to shout it's replaced by a strip of electric tape.  
Looking over at jack, I see he’s received the same treatment, his blue eyes wide in fear. We’re hauled unceremoniously back to our feet and poshed into the back of the van, before the doors are shut and a lock and bolt can be heard, signalling how trapped we truly were. After a few seconds of silence, the engine hummed into life and then the true feeling of helplessness settled in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Mark, heart-throb of YouTube, be able to take this opportunity to show his affections to Jack?  
> Or more importantly (to some), will they be able to escape from their mysterious captors?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just kept writing... And then this happened...

Still Mark’s PoV

The engine of the van turned on and the true feeling of helplessness settled in.

I looked over at Jack, he was curled as much into a ball as he could with his hands securely tied behind his back. I rolled onto my stomach and attempted to get up onto my knees with the intention of shuffling over to him to comfort his shivering form but a sharp turn that sent me sprawling foiled that plan. Instead I settled for imitating a worm and wriggled over to him.  
“MMmm” I tried to get his attention through the tape over my mouth. He looked up with heart-breakingly teary eyes. I exhaled loudly through my nose and wriggled awkwardly right up next to him, and he nuzzled into my chest, crying into my shirt.  
Fuck, he wouldn't be in this mess if he wasn't associated with me… he couldn't be crying out his cute little eyes if he had never spoken with me…  
Filled with self-loathing, I couldn't bring myself to move any closer. Instead, I focussed on trying to escape.  
First, I tried pulling my wrists apart, it hurt but I kept trying, until I had to stop or I feared it would disturb the now seemingly calm jack on my chest.  
Next I tried a more strategic approach, pulling at certain parts of the binding, but again, to no avail. Then I tried reaching for a knot of some sort with my fingers, and I found one, near the base of my right thumb, but it was in such a position that I couldn't reach it properly and it was there, teasingly within reach but out of range. Then I remembered there were two of us! Jack could reach it!  
I “MMpgh” at him and rolled over, showing him my back, and more importantly, my hands. After shaking them, he seemed to get the idea and rolled over also so his hands were next to mine. He fumbled at the knots on my wrist, being unable to see and all that; and I could feel him getting more and more frustrated. I suddenly took hold of his hands in mine, they were smaller than mine, and smooth as fuck, and despite the situation and awkwardness, I couldn't help but imagne holding these hands in a different scenario… But No! There was shit to do first!  
I held his hand still and then tried to untie his hands instead. My attempt was as useless as his was.  
I stopped trying and let my hands go limp, tired from the struggling and wriggled back round so I could at least face him. He turned and looked and then, without warning, ripped the tape off my mouth, which was apparently a lot easier than undoing knots.  
“Argh, Fuck! I think I lost some of my manly stubble to that!”  
Jack smiled at that and I turned and pulled his tape off too.  
“FOOKIN’ HELL! That hurt!”  
“Tell me about it, Jackaboy”  
We both sat there in silence for a bit, then, “Mark, where do you think they’re taking us?” Jack whisperd.  
I shook my head. “I don't know… I wish I did, but I don't…”  
Jack’s eyes welled up and threatened to spill over again.  
“Jack, I don't know where we're going but I promise you, were going to be alright.” I smiled the best I could in the given situation. He smiled back, not his full smile, but enough to light up his eyes, just a little. 

Then the van stopped. Jack looked at me, clearly terrified. I got up on my knees and shuffled in between him and the door, intent on protecting him the best I could. The door opened, and the mand with the sunglasses stepped in. From this vantage, he seemed to take up the whole door, blocking out the sunlight from the slowly setting sun.  
He looked at us, tapeless, but is facial expression didn't change at all.  
“I hope you two had a charming chat. I'm afraid we will be reaching our destination soon and we don't want you to know where it is, so we will be putting the pair of you to sleep for the next part of your journey.*  
I bristled. “ What do you fuckers want? And how could we tell where we're going? Were in the back of a van which. and I see exactly zero windows.”  
“There are ways to tell location without needing sight, Mr Fischbach, as for what we want, we want what's inside of you.”  
“That's no fucking answer!”  
“It's the only answer you'll get. Sweet dreams.”  
The man walked out.  
The door closed.  
Jack started sobbing again.  
Then they gassed us with some chemical compound that smelt like strawberries.  
Then it all went dark.  
…  
…  
…

 

Ugh…  
Where am I?  
…  
My head pounds like its having a hangover but I can focus enough to see where the fuck I am.  
Where-the-fuck-i-am turns out to be a cell of some sorts. I'm lying on a bed, simple and clean, like the rest if the room apparently.  
The room is mainly white, but with a bright green trend running through. Green bedding, green carpet. Not bogey green, or forest green, neon green, like Jack's channel colour- SHIT! JACK!  
I look around frantically, and realising my hands are now free, I jump of the bed to the door and open the hatch big enough to easily fit a Game Cube through, but not a markiplier. “JAAACCKK!!!” I shout.

“Sorry, he won't be able to head you, mark.” A female voice replies, and then a female face appears on the other side of the door.  
I instantly recognise her as the zombie girl. “You! What have you done with Jack! Why did you bring us here!”  
She shakes her head. “I'm sorry mark! I didn't want to do it! I was unable to resist! They switched me out! We're at the HQ of I.AM.BREAD. They took Jack first because you were still asleep. I’m so sorry!”  
I frown. “Why would you be sorry? You seemed perfectly happy to help detain us.”  
The girl is on the verge of tears.  
“That wasn't me! They switched me out! I didn't want to do this! I Love you videos, Mark! And Jack’s! They made me do it! I'm unable to stop them!”  
“How?”  
“They programmed me… I'm one of theirs now. I’m unable to resist… “  
“Wait, what!!?? What do you mean they programmed you!?”  
She looks at me, in the eyes, hers a deep brown. “They don't want you, they what what's inside of you, the darkness, the cruelty, and merciless… they shut down the parts that normally counter it, and leave you a shell, an obedient slave…”  
“You mean… they want Darkiplier!?” My eyes widened. I knew he existed within me, but I normally kept him in check.  
The girl nodded. “By the way, my name's Fissure”  
“Fissure? And I thought it was cruel to name your kids Voldemort”  
Fissure giggled at that, a light innocent completely girly giggle.  
“It's not my real name! That one of the first things they erase. I’m unable to remember my real name, now I'm just Agent 18, codenamed Fissure.”  
She stated, all matter-of-factly.  
“Why 18”  
“Because I'm the 18th person who survived the procedure.”  
I couldn't reply to that… she had said survive… meaning that they might kill him… they may have already killed Jack!  
“Where's Jack! If you're really sorry, let me out and I’ll get him myself!”  
She shakes her head saddly. “I'm sorry Mark, I’m unable to. I don't have the key anyway, Jack is in-”  
She’s cut off by a mechanic voice sounding through some hidden speakers or some sort. “AGENT EIGHTEEN. REPORT TO PREP ROOM WITH INSTANT INTENT!”  
Fissure’s sighs “sorry. I've got to go… Mark… I'm sorry in advance for anything they make me do.”  
And then she's gone.  
And I'm left alone to my thoughts again. I test the door, but it's thoroughly locked, there's no window anyway to check and everything in the room is stuck, either bolted to the floor or wall. I can do nothing but wait and worry about what they're doing to Jack... What Fissure could be doing to Jack...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, a lot of dialogue in this one, and also sorry if it's not quite in character of Mark or whatnot, but I'm not in marks head, I don't know what he's thinking ^^` Mind Readers are Assholes.  
> Again, comments welcome^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With mark stuck in a cell, how and more importantly (to some), when can he tell jack his feelings?  
> And more importantly (to others), what sinister stuff is going to in the facility? And what do they want with Mark, Jack and the rest of the 'agents'?

Still Marks PoV

Is amazing how well the human mind can adapt. This small room, this cell, had become my everything. Days had come and gone and everything was blurring into one big mush. The lights dimmed signalling evening, then turned off completely for night, when I slept, then they would turn on gradually waking me up. I would sit and think, or lie in, or maybe try a few press ups, depending on my mood. Hell, I'd even tried singing! (#oh that sooooo cooooooool, so cooooooool! My computer can't handle the rendering)  
Food came twice a day, and honestly, I'd tasted worse. Fissure was the only thing that stopped me going completely emotionally numb in the place where waking, eating, living has almost become autonomous.  
Or course I had tried to escape, tried breaking down the door, the wall, the floor! But to no avail.  
She came to talk to me once or twice a day. Sometimes with titbits on how Jack was, sometimes just to chat. It wasn't much, but at least I knew he was still alive.  
It was through these chats that I learnt that we were still in America, In an underground compound, home to all the “successfuls”, the “ failures” and the facilities used to change them. I also learnt that she had no clear memories from before she had been “Collared”.

Oh boy, that was a fun conversation.  
I had asked why she didn't just run, and in return, she lifted her long black hair (her actual hair) to reveal a sinister looking coller. Apparently every “successful” had one. She explained how it had a tracker, and of course, a method of remote elimination for any rouges, “Very messy though” she added, almost as an afterthought.

For some reason she always avoided any questions to do with this “switching” she had mentioned on that first day, however long ago that was… hiding behind that curtain of hair.

Other than my conversations with Fissure, I had a lot of spare time. I wondered about my past life. (Fuck! When did I start thinking about these things as my past life!?) These things being things like how mine and Jack’s subs were dealing with the lack of videos to keep then laughing. How our families must be looking for us, hoping that we would one day be found. Fuck, I missed them. I missed Chica, and hoped someone had thought to feed her and give my little Chica-wika the love and attention she deserved. 

And then once I had exhausted the past (and my tear ducts dammit, I'm mean to be manly) I tried thinking of the future, what's going to happen to me… Will I ever see Jack and his amazing smile that lit up hig gorgeous blue eyes? Would escape become an option if I waited long enough? Could I track down jack and escape with him? Would Fissure help me escape? Or would I be stuck here forever, to live a life of a slave that had been described to me, or a life of a prisoner, a faliure to the system? Or would I die?...  
…  
Fuck…  
… I'm going to die… here… without ever seeing my family again… without ever kissing jack (dammit, why did I think of that) without ever completing that damned level of Mario Maker…  
…

I needed to stop thinking this way… simply thinking of escape wasn't going to help me escape. I need to think of the present, of what I have now!

Now, I have my full bodily functions. I haven't been shackled or hurt physically. I haven't been starved or kept sleep deprived.  
Now, I haven't got a coller on. In fact, 'they', whoever they are, haven't touched me.  
Now, I have the time to formulate a proper plan, to asses everything and make sure I don't fuck up, to make sure I can rescue Jack and Fissure, and save him from this less-firery-than-I-thought-it-would-be hell.  
Now, I… see the door openeing… for the first time…

And he's stood there! Jack! In all his green haired glory! I practically leap of the matching green bed and rush to him. He must have escaped before me, luck of the Irish and everything! And he's somehow found me! We can find the dorms, grab Fissure and get the fuck outta here!  
I'm smiling like an idiot.  
Gods, I've missed his doofus face so much.  
I reach out to hug him.

Then I see the collar.

I'm too late...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for out of character-ness, but even mark, if put under this situation, probably wouldn't be behaving along his usual patterns, and again, I'm not mind-reader. I don't know his thinking patterns. Plus, mind-readers are Assholes.
> 
> Comments welcome^^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is jack lost forever!? Will Mark ever be able to share his love with the blue eyed Irishman?  
> ... Who am I kidding? Jacks gone. He's "successful". But what does he want with Mark?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of warning, ahead lie words depicting scenes or torture. It's not overly graphic, but it could still be upsetting for the more sensitive members of the audience ^^`
> 
> And I found out how to get italics and bold!!!! Whoop!!!

Jacks PoV

“Agent 23. Go collect Mr Fischbach. It think it about time the two of you were reunited.”  
The man with the sleek hair ordered-  
_Master ordered_.  
I didn't want to. They would do to him what they did to me, but my body moved without my consent.

Striding down the corridors like I knew the fookin’ place, I’m a passenger in my own fookin’ body…  
_Of course you are, I’m in control now!_  
But it's **my** body!  
_Fook off!_  
…  
When I woke up, I was strapped to a chair. They asked me question after question.  
Who am I?  
Why am I here?  
What is my purpose?  
Why do I live?  
Who is my Master?  
What is my purpose?  
Who am I?  
Why do I live?  
Why am I here?  
Why do I live?  
Who am I?  
Why do I live?  
What is my purpose?  
Why am I still alive?  
Why am I here?  
Why am I not dead?

Who is my Master?  
…  
They asked me over and over again, question after question, until I wasn't sure if they were asking or I was asking myself. Every wrong answer got me pain. 

Who am I?  
I am Jack.  
_wrong_  
*A current of electricity is shot through me. I scream*  
Who am I?  
I am Sean McLoughlin  
_wrong_  
*A blunt object meets the back of my head. I see stars*  
Who am I?  
I’m Mark's friend  
_wrong_  
*A searing hot poker is pushed into my chest. I cry out*  
Who am I?  
I’m in pain  
_wrong_  
*A knife edge is dragged across my thigh, leaving a deep gash. I bite my tongue.  
Who am I?  
I don't know  
_wrong_  
*A hammer cones down on my hand and bones break. I really cry.  
Who am I?  
Please stop  
_wrong_  
*A current of electricity is shot through me. I feel numb. I can't scream.  
Who am I?  
Please help me! Mark! Anyone!  
_wrong_  
*A blunt object meets my jaw. My vision is fading.  
Who am I?  
I am broken  
…  
…  
_darkness_  
…  
_what's that?_  
…  
…  
_a voice?_  
…

“Who are you?”  
…  
_and then… my voice… but… I'm not controlling it…_  
“I am Antisepticeye”  
…  
…  
And then I feel a metal being wrapped around my neck and a snap **chunk** of a mechanical lock.  
…  
…

 

 _Oh Jackaboy! We’re here! Have a nice trip down memory lane?_  
I'm stood in front of a door. A small hatch is all that marks it's difference from the rest of the doors in this fookin’ maze.  
My arm reaches out and punches in a code into a lock I didn't even see and the door opens.  
Mark is is there!  
If I had my body, I would have smiled and rushed in to hug him! I wanted him so much!  
_Awww. Isn’t that sweet_  
I would hug him and cry all the pain away into his chest. Tell him how he's the only thing I remember. Shown him how much I missed seeing his deep brown eyes and cocky ass smile.  
He's smiling now, he's getting up! Move body! Dammit!  
…  
He's stopped.  
He's looking at the collar.  
He's looking at me, at my eyes.  
His eyes widen in sort of recognition and fear.  
I wonder what he's seeing…  
_He’s seeing me!_  
…  
Mark… help me… please…  
…  
_He can't hear you_  
Please…  
_No one can_  
…  
...please…  
…

**Marks PoV**

I saw the collar… I know what it means… but I have to be sure, I have to be.  
I look him in the eyes.  
They're dead. There's no light in them at all. It's like when someone's sleepwalking, conscious, but not.  
Even the way he's standing is different. The Jack I know… knew… always stood with his shoulders back, weight unevenly distributed, with his amazing smile to boot. But this… this was not Jack…  
He was standing all wrong… still and unnatural, his expression as cold as the metal wrapped around his delicate neck.  
“You're not Jack… who are you?” I asked cautiously.  
“I am Agent 23, codenamed Antisepticeye” he replied, monotonously.  
Fuck… even his accent was gone.  
The longer I looked at the figure in front of me, so familiar, and yet, a stranger, the more hope I lost.  
They broke Jack, the loudest, most energetic leprechaun on YouTube…  
They broke Jack, my friend, and turned him into… _this_...

My sadness must have shown in my face, because Anti looked directly at me, and frowned _with Jack's eyebrows_ and they said _with Jack's voice_  
“Oh Markimoo, mourning your losses?”  
…  
That bastard. That greasy haired, sunglasses wearing fucker. He's going to pay. Dearly.

“Markimoo, you’re going to want to come with me” 

I ignored him. He was NOT Jack. I don’t care if he had Jack's voice or Jack’s appearance. He was NOT jack.

“How do I get Jack back?”  
“I can't tell you”  
… worth a shot.  
“But my Master can.”  
…  
Now **that** pissed me off. How I’d wanted Jack to call me Master; hey, we all have a weird kink, even if you refuse to admit it. And now that Greased haired MotherFucker was going around forcing that word out of Jack's mouth! 

“If you come with me, I can take you too him”.  
“That's exactly where he wants me to be. So No.”  
“It could be your only chance of seeing your beloved Jack again”  
… Fuck… he had me…  
“Fine. Take me to your leader.”

Satisfies with that answer, Anti swivels round and saunters out into the corridor, where he turns and continues down the length of it.  
I mutter under my breath “E.T phone home”  
On the journey to what I presume to be my intimate death, we pass a sig saying “Dorm” and my thoughts instantly go to Fissure. Taking a quick glance at my ‘guide’ (who is a good 6 steps ahead of me) I turn and run through the door.

“Fissure! FISSURE!”  
Faces turn to look at me, all a variety of ethnicities, gender and age, but all sharing the same defeated, hollowed look as Fissure showcased. And then a weight hits me from behind and I'm thrown to the floor, the ‘Weight’ proceeding to sit on my back, effectively pinning my arms simultaneously, before taking a handful of my hair and using it to yank my chin off the floor.  
I struggle but I know it futile.  
“Fookin’ hassle” Anti’s voices hissed from above my ear.  
I always thought myself the stronger of the two of us, but in this position, my arms trapped beneath me, my head being pulled back, I can do nothing to fight back.

That doesn't stop me from trying though

I wriggled and writhe, making desperate attempts to get my arms out, to gain some leverage, but then I feel the touch if a cold blade against my exposed neck.  
I froze instantly.  
Whether you have experience or not, the touch of a blade, held against your skin, pressed into the flesh, cannot be mistaken.  
I would have swallowed nervously but I was worried that if I did, the knife would dig in and draw blood.  
“Don't you fucking move, you slippery bitch” Jacks voice hissed in my ear.  
Deciding I prefer my throat unslit, I keep still.  
“Thaaaaats much better. Tell you what, imma tell you a little secret, for such a good little bitch”

Anti was sat on my back, one hand holding my back, the other holding the knife. But then he shifted, releasing my head and moving down my body slightly, till he was sat on my ass.  
He trailed the knife from my neck down over my collarbone and down my spine, never letting it leave my skin.

“I know you like me. You'll enjoy this. I _know_ you will”  
And then he started moving his crotch on my ass, grinding into my area.  
"No! I... Uhh"  
Despite everything, I couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my lips and I almost instantly felt a sudden hard-on.

Anti snickered. “He can see this, you know”  
“Please… stop… “ I gasped through laboured breaths.  
“Hmmm… no.”  
Then he sliced the knife down my back, slicing cleanly through the cloth of my t-shirt, drawing blood.  
My back arched in reflex to the sudden pain and I gasped.  
“This is nothing compared to what Jack had to suffer! And do you know what!? He was calling for you the whole time!”  
He draws the knife down my back again, deeper this time.  
“I'm sorry!” I whimper. “I tried to escape! I really did!”  
Anti pulls away my now blood-soaked top, revealing my muscular back, and the two angry bleeding lines down it.  
“Not good enough! It's your fault he’s here! It's your fault I’m still here! It's all your fookin’ fault!”  
A third cut join the other two. Then another, then another. My back must be in ribbons. I see blood, my blood, splashing off the knife into the floor, pooling around me. I'm not even sure if i'm crying out or not anymore. Though my teared-up eyes, I see the “sucsesfulls”. Watching. Not moving. Not taking their eyes off the bloody show in front of them.

Damned Anti, he even let the accent slip back in, it sounded like Jack… 

But then the bladed assault on my back ceased, only to be replaced by bloody fingers, applying pressure and moving my tattered flesh around my back, in a mocking mimic of a massage.  
How much I had wanted those smooth hands to touch me... I grit my teeth, my eyes watering up again with fresh tears.  
“This is nothing compared to what they’ll do to you” Anti hissed ominously in my ear.

Then the weight was gone.  
But I couldn't move. I was in pain, my back was on fire, and I felt exhausted all over again. Then a pair of bloody hands reached round my shoulders and almost tenderly pulled me up off the floor.

Anti’s hands didn't leave my shoulders all throughout the slow progress to my destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long chapter, I was going to slit it, but I couldn't find a suitable place to split it.
> 
> As usual, Comments are welcome^^
> 
> ... And sorry if there was too much pain in this one... I'm a lot more experienced at writing pain than "passionate" scenes... Tell me if you guys want more "passion" or more "action" please^^`


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all gone pearshaped for Mark and Jack.  
> Jack is lost to anti, and it looks like Mark is next.  
> Can he hold strong, or will he be unable to resist the powers of this genericly evil cooperation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for long wait. I'm busy! Trust me!

Mark’s PoV again

“Master. I’ve got him, as you ordered”  
Anti announced after being granted permission to enter.  
His _Master_ was standing behind his desk, next to his cushioned but smart desk chair, his back to us. He wasn't even worried that anyone would try to attack him, but then again, Jack has become his personal puppet and I certainly wasn't up to it.  
Feeling light-headed and nauseous, partly due to my current situation and partly due to the slices still leaking my precious life juice; I was practically leaning on my aggressor for support. 

“Thank you, 23. You may leave now.”  
Anti let go of my shoulder, and retreaded out the door, leaving me to sway, just about staying on my feet, in front of his _”master”_

There was a few moments of silence, me staring into the immaculate back if his captor, before I can't take it any more.

“What the fuck do you want with me, you bastard!?” I growl.  
…  
I get silence for my problems. Somehow, even without speaking, I get the message. He's in charge. And **he** will choose when we speak.  
Knowing it would be pointless to try again, I sigh, and waited for him to initiate conversation.

Acknowledging my small surrender of power, he half turned. “Take a seat, Mr Fischbach.” He motioned a plain wooden chair in front of his desk.  
Since I'm probably going to fall over if I keep standing, I took in invitation, wincing as my still hot, bleeding back made contact with the cold, stiff back of the chair.  
He doesn't sit, using this simple action of standing to emphasis his control of the conversation, of the room, of my life. I sat silently and waited for him to start… whatever he’s going to start.

“So, Mr Fischbach, Judging from your… *sorry-not-sorry-cough* little scratches, I’m presuming your reunion with Mr McLoughlin was… um, how do you put it… “Cool”.”  
“Fuck-a-you! You Dick-Bag!” I shouted.  
He carried on, ignoring me completely.  
“Welcome to I.AM.BREAD. My name is Billy W. Stache. You will address me as either Mr Stache, like a gentleman, or Master, like your good friends 18 and 23 do.”  
I activated my middle finger defence.  
The bastard continued none the less.  
“As defiant as you may be now, I can assure you that you will find release and freedom after you let go of this… facade of liberty.”  
“Liberty!? You call turning people into your own personal slaves, WITHOUT their permission liberty!? You’re a Psychopath!”  
“On contré; what really shackles you is the rules of society! Useless moral codes that do nothing but restrict, laws laid down by corrupt leaders and followed by a blinded society. Our desire to fit in and be popular betrays us; we restrict and crush whole parts of ourselves in our rush to follow everyone else! We hold ourselves back out of fear, fear of death, of being alone, or never being acknowledged.”  
“And how is becoming your personal slave any better! We would be taking one form of captivity for another! And I'm pretty sure I know which one I prefer!” I almost leapt forward out of the chair I was sat in, were it not for the pain sudden movement brought to my back, so I settled for dramatically waving my arms.  
“If you surrender yourself to me, I will give you release and freedom you will have never felt before! You won't feel held back by anything! Rules of society, gone! Control from others, vanquished! Fear of everything, Never again!” I can hear the passion creeping into his usually monotone voice… he really IS a psycho…  
I was about to refuse again when I heard footsteps come through the door behind me; Anti and Fissure enter.  
Anti started first. “Mark! It's so much better this way!”  
Then Fissure. “So much easier!”  
I frowned. “You said Jack was in pain. You Dick-bags tortured my friend!”  
Anti just smiled. “You’re right Mark. Jack WAS in pain, but the second he submitted, all the pain was gone!”  
“And he never has to fear pain ever again! None of us do!”  
“I don’t have to worry if my subscribers will like the game I'm playing! I can play what I want!”  
“We never have to care about if what we're doing will make others think less of us, we can have all the fun we want, just because we want to!”  
They were stepping forwards slowly, getting closer and closer, arms wide out, as if trying to give me a very sinister hug, eyes wide and smile wider, but all the more unatural.  
“Jack! Fissure! This isn't you! Snap out of this Dick-bag’s control!”  
Anti’s eyes flooded over in a deep crimson.  
“Oh Mark, this isn't control, this is release!”  
Fissure’s eyes followed suit; and crimson blossomed over brown.  
“Release and much more!”  
“No worries”  
“Of others opinions”  
Their sentences started to overlap, untill they were shouting, almost chanting in unison.  
“No holding myself back for others!”  
They were right in front of me now.  
“No fear of death!”  
Anti pulled out his knife, still stained with my own blood, and handed it to Fissure. I saw it in slow motion. With crimson eyes and a wild feral smile plasters across her face, she raised the dagger and plunged it downwards towards her own chest.  
It’s not like in the movies where blood sprays everywhere as the character flies backwards, all weak yet with enough energy to take up another ten minutes of screen time; in fact, there was no blood. She just looked at the knife buried to the hilt in her chest and burst out laughing.  
Then she pulled it out and the blood started pouring, down and down her front.  
Then something changed, her eyes lost their crimson glare and returned to brown and her smile faultered.  
“Oh…” she whispered; and I knew that the real Fissure was back.  
I knew it was a fatal stab, she knew it was a fatal stab. I tried calling out her name but my throte was dry.  
“I remeber my name! Chloe! My name is Chloe Fisher!” she whisperd. Her face was a mix of happiness, sadness, and everything in between, and then she fell go her knees, and then the floor; a look of pure release reflected in her eyes. The face of a girl who had just achieved true freedom.  
Everything was frozen, silent. All I could do was stare at her lifeless body on the floor in front of me.  
Anti broke the silence with a fit of laughter.  
“Did you see that!? That was fookin’ awesome! She was happy right to the end!”  
Tears were welling up in my eyes, Fissure, or rather, Fisher, had just killed herself in front of me! I didn't have any particular attachment to her, but she was a friend. I felt raw **and this bastard was laughing at her!**  
“You think this is funny Jack!? You think a girl killing herself is funny!?”  
“Jack is hating this, but me, I’m finding this fookin’ hilarious! “  
“I know you don't have an irish accent. Stop putting it on, Anti.”  
“No. Not unless you submit!”  
“Jack, listen to me, I know your in there! You can beat Anti, I know you can! If Fisher was still inside after years, I know you are still there!”  
I’m panicking, I’m too emotionally everywhere and nowhere simultaniiusly to make sane decisions, let alone manly ones, so I may as well try.  
“If you submit, you can be with Jack without worrying what your subscribers would think.”  
Anti caught me out with that. Damn, he knows my weaknesses…  
“You could be without a care in the world, just spending time with Jack, makeing him yours, without having to worry about people judging you or criticising. All you have to do is submit!”  
I try to protest, but I'm caving.  
“You can forget about all the bad things you've ever done, you've ever seen, ever felt. All you have to do is submit”  
I look the the corpse at my feet, how good it would be if I just forgot this whole thing…  
“You can play video games you your hearts content! And not have the take the extra stress of keeping up appearances for an audience!”  
Well.. I doesn't sound too bad… **wait! What the frik was I thinking!?** I was about to do a stoop!  
“I'm not submitting! Ever!” I yell.  
Anti smiled, his crimson eyes cruel as _Billy W.stache_ sighs and replies “so be it. I gave you a kind choice but it looks like were doing this by force.”  
He leand forwards and pushes me into the chair with a hand planted on my chest.  
Then I felt a prick in my neck and everything went dark.

…  
…  
…

Somewhere deep inside me, in that darkness, soemthing was stiring...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make her a character worthy of killing off, but I fear I failed. I killed her off anyway^^`
> 
> Comments welcome^^ as usual^^


	6. (End of) Part 1.  Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added this in as some people were saying they were getting confused by the interim chapter. So now this exists.  
> Enjoy^^ (please...)

Jack's PoV

Pain… it was everywhere.  
Not so much for me though, but for Mark. It was etched in his face, his deep brown eyes tearing up.

I thought I'd grown numb to feeling, I thought I'd given up on feeling but no, those bastards were back and if I had my eyes back, I would have been crying too. I didn't know the raven haired girl lying in a pool of her own blood next to me, but it would seem Mark did. What I did know is I had just handed her the fookin’ knife she used…  
I wanted to turn away, to close my eyes and choke down the memory of a dry heave, but no. **You can't even do that for me!**

_Oh poor you, Jackaboy. Think of it as character building~!_

Please, Anti… please stop looking at her… 

_Nope!_

Please… I beg you… look away…

 _Ha! Poor little Jack, begging like the bitch he is, hehe. Haha!_  
He burst out laughing. With my mouth, my laugh…  
I saw Mark’s head whip round, glaring at me with his water brown eyes.  
“Did you see that!? That was fookin’ awesome! She was happy right to end! “  
Anti… no… please…  
_Stop me then. I dare you!_  
… I can't…  
_That's right, you can't stop me. You don't even try anymore! You’re pathetic!_

“You think this is funny Jack!? You think a girl killing herself is funny!?” Mark shouted… At me…  
It's not funny, Mark! It’s not me! Please! Hear me, Mark! ME! Not Anti! Please!...  
Please…

“Jack is hating this, but me, I’m finding this fookin’ hilarious! “  
_There! Happy?_

… it's better than nothing…

 _What do you say?_  
…  
Thank you Anti…  
_Good boy._

“I know you don't have an irish accent. Stop putting it on, Anti.”  
Mark looked desperate. I could see it in his eyes.  
“No. Not unless you submit!”

Oh jaysus! Ye trying to make Mark like me! No! I will not be your bargaining chip!  
_Wow! You ARE a slow one!_

“Jack, listen to me, I know hour in there!”  
He was talking to ME! Mark! Im here!  
_He can’t hear you._  
“You can beat Anti, I know you can! “  
I'm trying, Mark! I really am!  
_No you're not! And even if you were, you'd fail anyway!_  
If Fisher was still inside after years, I know you are still there!”  
I am, Mark! I’m still here!  
_He won't be though, hehe._

“If you submit, you can be with Jack without worrying what your subscribers would think.”  
Mark flinches at that.  
Wait what!? With me!  
Anti! What do you mean? What do you know!?  
_I’m sure you’ll find out sooner or later~_  
“You could be without a care in the world, just spending time with Jack, makeing him yours, without having to worry about people judging you or criticising. All you have to do is submit!”  
I can see his mind working, processing the poisend words mouth is saying.  
“You can forget about all the bad things you've ever done, you've ever seen, ever felt. All you have to do is submit”  
He looked at the girl, jaysus… he must be feeling like shit...  
“You can play video games you your hearts content! And not have the take the extra stress of keeping up appearances for an audience!”

I can't describe how received I am when Mark turns back go look at me with eyes full of life.  
“I'm not submitting! Ever!” he shouted.

Mr Stache- _Master_ -sighed and said, almost sadly “So be it. I gave you a kind choice but it looks like we're doing this by force.”  
I felt my mouth twisting into a cruel smile, and my arms moving forwards, pushing Mark into the chair. I see him wince as his raw back is forced into the wood. Then Mr Stache pulled out a needle containing a substance of some sort and jabbed it into Mark's neck. Mark fell limp.  
MAAARRRKK!!!!  
_Oh shut up! All you do is whine and shout that aisen’s name over and over! It's fucking annoying and it's giving me a headache!_  
He’s half aisen, you fooker.  
_Do I look like I care?_

“If you're quite done with your little internal conversation, Agent Septiceye, it’s time for you to sleep.”  
Anti noded and then our vision goes black.

I open my eyes, wait- **I** open my eyes! I'm back in control! I'm on the floor, I must had collapsed, but by the looks of it, only for a few seconds.  
“Welcome back, Mr McLoughlin, I trust you were well looked after.” Mr Stache bent down and offered me a hand.  
I slap it away, and stand up, independently. This fooker had cooked me up enough already. I look to where I last saw Mark and almost sigh when I spy him, still there. Instead, I place myself between Mark and our kidnapper.  
“That is not a wise choice of action, Mr McLoughlin.” He warned.  
“I don’t care. You are NOT touching Mark.” I spat back.  
“What can you do to stop me?” He raised his eyebrow patronisingly.

I growled, then shouted “This!” as I rushed forwards closing the distance between us. I raised a fist, and put all my power into it, intent on knocking the lights out of him, he didn't even try to defend himself! After all, in every rush attack, speed is key! I pulled back and-  
Stopped. Frozen. 

My eyes widened in surprise as my muscles all suddenly locked up, stopping any movement.  
Mr Stache chuckled.  
“What did ye do to me, ye fooker!” I shouted.  
_He did nothing. It was me! I couldn't just sit back while you were going to punch our Master._  
Oh. You're still here.  
“As you can see, you can't lay a finger on me, hell, you can't even plot against me. Now I ask you again. What can you do to stop me?”  
I struggled with all my might but I was not moving. I glared at Mr Stache and hissed “Nothing, at the moment, but I will find a way.”  
“Good enough for me. Anti, thank you for your help.”  
“My pleasure!-Hey! Don't use my mouth, you fooker!”  
Looks like I didn't have as much control as I wanted…

Just then, the door opened and four ‘agents’ walked filed in and stood to attention, all synchronised, all dead-eyed.  
“Thank you for coming at such short notice. I need your help. Would two of you mind taking Mr Fischbach here to the procedure room-”  
“Ye’r taking him nowhere!” I growled defensively as I returned to my stop between my best friend all possible threats.  
“-and Mr McLoughlin here to the viewing bay. Make sure you lock him in too.”  
I'm about to snark a comeback when the agents move, suddenly they're all around me, and I flinch.  
Then before I can even process what's happened, my wrists are grabbed, my collar, my shoulders and arms are moved and positioned and I hear the snapping of plastic cable ties.  
A mere few seconds later, they step back and I find my wrists are now secured to my collar, one hand on either side of my neck, effectively rendering both them useless, as well as significantly limiting my upper body movement. Nonetheless, I resist, pull at the ties for all I’m worth _-not much then-_ to no avail.

Two of the ‘agents’ pick up mark by his armpits and ankles and carry him out, while the other two sandwich me between them, pressing a hand into my back, frogmarch me out into the compound corridor maze.

I continued to struggle and even attempt to run at one point but that only earnt me a clout round the head.

When we finally reached our destination, I was unceremoniously shoved through a door, where I toppled over and having no hands go stop my fall (and rubbing my wrists raw in the reflex of trying), I landed on my front, forehead impacting painfully on the floor.  
The room lights must be activated by some sensor shit because a few seconds later, they hum into life. I maneuvered myself up onto my knees, then into my feet. I stumbled around for a bit before finding a hook-like thing on the wall, I can only presume for coats of guests. I hook the plastic ties round and pull with all my Irish might and **Snap!**.  
I repeated the process with the other hand, and was rubbing my sore wrists when suddenly the wall to my left lit up, and I realised it wasn't a wall at all, instead, a plain of perplex glass between me and the “procedure room”. The ‘agents’ were in there, strapping Mark’s unmoving body into a thick padded chair; the same chair I must have been in when they pulled me out of that fookin’ van.

Once my best friend was deemed secure enough, the agents filed out. And then nothing.  
The lights stayed on- _For your pleasure, obviously_...  
Oh, you’re still here…  
_Of Course~_  
You hurt Mark.  
_No, YOU hurt Mark._  
It was YOU using my body!  
_Oh Jakaboy, you don’t understand. **I am you.**_  
No! I wouldn’t! Not to Mark! That was you! Not me!  
_We are one and the same, Jack._  
No we’re not! I didn’t use to have someone else in my head! That fooker put you here!  
_You’re misunderstanding, Jack. I have **always** been here, with you. Master just gave me the power to make myself known._  
No… You hurt people, you destroy and enjoy it. That’s not cool, dude…  
_So do you! In all those games you played, imitating shooting others, blowing things up, doing whatever you deemed necessary to win. Am I really that different?_  
…  
_Hmph, playing silent are we?_

 _Jack, stop headbutting that poor wall. You’ll give yourself concussion, then where would we be?_  
_Oooh! The door just sounded! Something's happening on the other side of this window!_  
_There, now we can see- hmm, they look rather menacing, don't they?_  
_Ah, I always though cold water was a horrible way to wake up, but judging by the way he jumped then, electricity must be much worse~_  
_Aanndd they're shouting, Mark looks pretty angry. His face is scrunching up and everything! Shame we can’t hear anything through this perplex, huh Jack?_  
_Ah, that calmed him down. Who’d’ve ever thought the mighty Markiplier could have been brought down by a mere bitch-slap. Although I guess the spikes in that nasty looking glove helped._  
_I think the questions are starting, he's replying and- OOoohh that looked painful! He’s bleeding already! The nasal area really is so fragile._  
_And again! I hope he didn't need that jaw, hehe!_  
_He's shouting again, is he always this loud? Actually, why am I asking that? I have all your memories!_  
_Ah, you can always rely on a good old vice to the knee go shut people up, they're probably going to tighten it every time he shouts, yup, just like that- aanndd I don't think those are shouts of anger anymore._  
_Aww I think he's about to cry! Look at that, Jack, the manly Markipoo crying at a broken ankle. Mind you, smashing ball-and-socket joints with a mallet is going to hurt._  
_He must have shouted some profanities again, they're tightening that vice again. Ouch! That looks painful.. I don't think bones are meant to go that way._  
_It's a good thing they can patch you up here too, isn't it? Or everyone would be crippled!_  
_Aanndd out comes the knife. He must be pissing him off._  
_You know, just a little trivia for you Jack, Master uses a different knife every procedure! He gives the knives he uses on the subjects to the subjects after. Says it's only right as it has they're blood on it._  
_Damn! That's a lot of blood coming out his chest and shoulders! Although that cris-cross pattern looks quite fetching on him!_  
_Ahh, look at his little face, isn't pain beautiful? The way it gets under your skin, into your head. How even the fear of it is enough to set you brain back to its earliest stages of evolution. How it reflects on your eyes, and drive the face to show emotions it's ever had go before._  
_The tears are flowing now!_  
_He’s breaking! Fuck, I could jerk off to this!_  
SHUT UP!  
_Oooh, hit a nerve, did I?_  
_Jack. Jack! Stop! You're going to break your shoulder! You can't break through the glass- No jack! Stop! You've already dislocated one, you're going to get through the wall either!_  
“SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I DON'T CARE IF I LOSE MY FOOKIN’ SHOULDERS! THEY’RE HURTING MARK!”  
_Ok OK! I get it! You don't need to shout! I can hear your thoughts perfectly clear, you know._  
_Hey, if you stop making such a racket and listen, you may be able to hear his screams through the- OK! I get it! Not the right thing to say! Stop punching that poor glass! What did it ever do ever do to you?_  
“It kept me from Mark…”  
Fook… I’m so useless… He’s in there, crying, screaming… Covered in his own blood and pieces of shattered bone and I can't even break though some measly persplex…  
No… he's… going quiet… he’s losing.  
I bang my bleeding fists up against the glass, hoping to bring him back- “MARK! YOU CAN’T GIVE IN! You can't! Mark…”  
_He can’t hear you._  
I know…  
_For what it’s worth, for you, his pain is over now. He’s gone._  
_Look. They've put down the chain-saw._  
_They're just talking to him now. Shhh. You can stop crying. He’s free. For now. See? He’s stopped crying._  
_Oh! They're uncuffing him. It must have been a success._  
_Oh my! I can see why you were attracted to his brown eyes, but I think crimson suits them a lot more!_  
_Oh, come on, get up. It's over now. There's nothing crying in the floor will do for-_  
Just fookin' shut up.  
…  
It’s over… he’s got Mark… And no doubt “Dark” too…  
I shivered in the corner of the room, my sobs echoing off the empty walls.  
_Hey, Jack. Do you want me to take the reigns. Then you can mourn all you want and I’ll deal with everything else for a while._  
Fine…  
…  
I don't even notice the switch in power. My consciousness is numb again… I felt my body rise and dust itself down and pop it’s shoulder back into place, under the command of Anti. It should hurt, but I don't care. I just want to disappear. Mark is gone. Not gone gone, but he’ll never be the same again…  
Anti sat down and patiently waited for the door to open.  
I want to disappear.  
The door opened and Anti strode out and started the walk back to the bastards office.  
I just want to disappear.  
Words are exchanged but I don't listen to it.  
Why can’t I disappear…  
Anti left the office and headed to the dorms, to I suppose will now be our dwelling.  
I don’t want to live anymore…  
He stopped by an empty bed.  
I don’t want to live without Mark…  
_Hey, if you’re done with the self pity. May I remind you Mark’s not gone. He’s still alive! He’s become successful like you!_  
“He’s become a prisoner like me… “  
I thought of the collar around my, no, Anti’s neck.  
_Do you want to take the wheel again?_  
No.  
_Fine. Hey, I know I may not be the ideal other half, and even though I talk shit to you half the time, I still care about you._  
Yeah right…  
_Right… well… We’re going to sleep now. Ok?_  
…  
_I’ll take that as a yes then._  
…

__

____**A week later**  
Nothing had happened much. I basically let Anti control the body for the time being. He tried to coax conversion out of me, but I just didn't want to talk.  
Instead, I found that if we had mutual feelings, we could both control the body… almost like we were merging… it because normal to have a second voice with me, and sometime during the routine, we had switched who was in control, somehow, absently mindedly.  
Anti stopped being as much of an asshole, and I got better at dealing with my sadness, and as much as I hated the thought, we were becoming close, becoming one.  
It was about a week later after Mark had gone, when he appeared in front of me.  
_All yours!_  
Thanks… Anti.  
On full control, I cautiously approached, unsure if this was Mark or Dark.  
He looked completely healthy, Anti had told me once how after the procedure, If you're successful, they can fix up all the damage with some super medicne of some sorts.  
Even with this knowledge, I was still surprised by how un-hurt he looked.  
“Jack.” He said, as a greeting.  
Oh jaysus! How much I've missed that voice! Despite everything, I find myself smiling. And Mark returns the smile.  
“Mark!” I rush forwards and hug him as hard as I could.  
“I've missed ye so much!”  
“I've missed you too, you doof”  
He hugged me back, and then lifted my chin and kissed me.  
_* wolf whistle*_  
I could have died there and then, and if I did, I would have died happy.  
I didn't care if we both had collars and a psychopathic alter-ego inside of us; we had each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really really sorry for the shitty ending of this chapter^^ I suck at endings ^^`
> 
> And sorry if it was a little confusing as Jack was narrating and think-speaking to Anti and I had no way of separating them (speech marks AR efor when Jack (or Anti) were actually saying things)  
> And sorry if it's really long too...
> 
> Comments welcome, as alway^^


	7. Interim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an interim chapter between parts.  
> This goes pretty sexual. Not all out, but certainly futher than I've ever written before...  
> Orgasm denial... Slight sub+Dom stuff. There's worse out there.

Mark and jack were stood in front of a bunk bed in a smallish, sparsely decorated room; their bodies completely healed from whatever grievances previously endured using some wonder chemicals of some kind. They had just been assigned their new sleeping quarters, and their Boss had been happy to provide more private accommodation upon request, as Mark didn't feel that the dorm layout would be appropriate for the mess he planned on making of Jack.  
“Shotgun Top” he shouted as he lunged forwards and touched the top bunk as if it were a race.  
“Aww come on, ye know I should go top, I'm lighter, I'm less likely to crush you!” protested Jack.  
“You’re smaller, you're less likely to roll into the mess!”  
“What mess?”  
“The one we’re about to create!” exclaimed Mark as he reached out and grabbed the Irishman by the collar and pulled him close, drawing him into a crushing bear hug. It was strange, this would normally be taboo, something he was **not** meant to do, and he would normally feel horrible forcing himself onto his friend, but somehow he knew Jack would be fine with it, and truth be told, he didn’t care if he wasn’t. He certainly didn't care about anything the rest of the world though. He wasn't sure why, but they didn't feel nearly as significant as he remembered them being.  
Jack stared up at him, pulling a face akin to a begging puppy, widening his bright crimson eyes as sticking out his bottom lip.  
“Please can I go top?”  
Mark took the opportunity to lean in, and whisper a negative reply, before seizing Jacks bottom lip with his teeth, and pulling him into a kiss.  
Jack started to protest, but that turned into a moan as he found he was unable to deny the fact any longer, he was fookin’ smitten by Mark.  
He leaned into the kiss, pressing his lips into the American’s.  
It was Mark’s turn to moan, as he felt Jack returning his passion; and Jack decided to take the opportunity, poking his quick Irish tongue into Mark’s mouth.  
Mark let him explore for a bit, bit then decided to fight back. It was a battle of wills, as the two stood there, their mouths locked to each other's, warring for greatness and dominance. Finally, Jack gave in and allowed Mark right in, admitting his defeat.  
Mark took it in his stride and explored to his heart's content but once he’s exhausted his tongue, he fell backwards onto the bottom bunk, pulling Jack with him.  
Jack fell and with a surprised squeak, accidentally bit down into Mark's tongue, who suddenly withdraw, a little blood welling up on the aforementioned muscle.  
“I’m sorry, Mark! It was an accide-!” Jack started to apologise but his world was flipped as Mark spun them round so Jack was lying on his back with Mark on his chest.  
“You'll be sorry yet, Jackaboy! Sorry you're so cute!”  
Mark growled before descending, almost animalistically, on Jack’s neck, biting and suckling, leaving a trail of purple hickeys and bruises when he left.  
“Oh Mark! Uh… just take my shirt off and be done with it, ya fookin` doof.”  
Mark grinned, his equally crimson eyes lighting up with pleasure at the sound of Jack’s invitation.  
“Since you asked so nicely, any manly gentleman would be obliged to obey”  
He sat up, a leg on either side of Jack's hips, and motioned for the Irishman to sit up a little so he could pull his top off over his head.  
Jack obeyed (this time) and soon he was laying topless beneath his best friend, and not caring.  
Mark looked down at Jack’s gorgeous chest and not-defined-but-definitely-there abbs, still hairless from his last strip challenge, and his smile got wider.  
He trailed his hand around it, feather-light, drawing lines across the stomach and up the sides stopping at the nipple just long enough to give them a teasing pinch, before continuing on their quest to make Jack as horny as possible.  
Jack could only gasp and grasp at the sheets as his back arched reflectively under Mark's dancing fingers.  
“Ma-Mark, could ye take ye t-top off too?” Jack managed to stutter out.  
“No- not before you call me ‘Master’!” Mark hands stopped moving and left Jack's chest, leaving Jack feeling suddenly cold.  
“But _Master_ Stache… “  
Mark felt a flash of anger at the mention of another man when he had Jack right where he wanted. Sure, he respected the boss, who had shown him the way to freedom, who wouldn't? But he still didn't have the same submissive devotion as Jack did. _guess he was **made** to be sub._  
“No, he may be our boss, but **who** is your _Master_?”  
Jack saw Mark's crimson eyes flash in anger and quickly lowered his head in the universal sign of surrender.  
“Ye are… Master.”  
“Good boy!” Mark practically purred, his deep voice laced with satisfaction.  
He leaned down and rewarded his Jackaboy, sucking and licking his nip, while another hand stealthily worked it way down to his waistband. It snuck under and grasped Jack's hard-on and started moving, somewhat awkwardly to start with, but it soon found a rhythm.  
Jack was lost in pleasure, his body was oversensitive from Mark’s earlier touches, and it was being overloaded. His mouth opened and his breathing became faster and shallower. He wasn't sure if he was making sounds, he didn't care, but Mark seems to like it, doubling his efforts, and his speed. Of course he had jacked off before, but this was better, so much better! He could feel the hot tingling through his body, his head going fuzzy. All he could think of was Mark, his smell, his taste, his voice. He was so close to release! So close!  
And then Mark stopped, leaving Jack teetering on the edge.  
“Maaaaarrk!!!” He whined.  
Mark was looking at him, with an evil half-smile on his face.  
“Pleeeeeeeease…” Jack tried his puppy eyes.  
“I forgot to take my top off! Silly me!” Mark said in a sing-song voice.  
Jack huffed, he did that on purpose.  
He look up at the now topless Mark, and he instantly forgot the insult he was about to throw.  
Marks knew he had a chest to be proud of. He had his channel to thank for that; although the awe in Jack's eyes was the best reward he had had ever.  
He grinned evilly again, and starting touching his own chest, running his fingers up and down his sculpted abs, grinding his hips into Jacks, giving him a faux-lap dance.  
To Jack, this was even worse. He could feel the heat again, damn Mark and his sexyness.  
He was running his fingers down his tongue now, his eyes half closed seductively and Jack could take no more.  
“M-Mar… Master… please touch me again” he begged.  
Mark stopped his seductive teasing purred “Good boy. Good Jackaboy” before leaning down into a hot, deep kiss, and letting his hand finish what it had started.  
Jack was gone, he was helpless, putty in his Master's hands. His Master guided him through a fast but careful build up before sending him crashing over the edge.  
Mark felt it coming and sat up before it hit him, and instead it arched and landed comfortably all over Jack.  
Jack didn't care. He was bathing in afterglow. It was the best he had felt in ages. He felt movement and his Master shift from his hips and he suddenly felt light from the drop in weight. He opened his eyes to see his Master standing, pulling his shirt back on.  
“Master… where are you going?”  
Mark smiled. He likes being called Master. Especially by his gorgeous Jack.  
“Nowhere, my sexy little irishman”  
Jack sat up, and only then felt his juice all up his chest and-  
“Cum down my face! Cum down my face!”  
Mark just laughed and disappeared through a door, reappearing a few seconds later with some tissue.  
He handed some to Jack and used the rest to help clean him up. Just as he was about to clean his chin, he changed his mind and grabbed Jack by his metal collar and pulled him close into another kiss, shoving his tongue into Jack's surprised mouth. Needless to say, Jack gave in, and reached up to Marks matching metal collar and pulled him closer.  
They finally broke apart, and Mark looked Jack directly into his crimson eyes.  
“I love you, Jack. I couldn't tell you before because… because I was scared. But now, now I can tell you without fear of rejection.”  
Jack returned the crimson stare.  
“I wouldn't’v rejected ye anyway, ya doof!”  
And he smiled one of his brilliant smile that lit up his eyes, whether blue or crimson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end of the story, I just wanted to practice writing more "steamy" scenes^^` Please feel free to critique, it would be highly appreciated ^^  
> I'll get back to writing the main story now...^^`  
> Oh yeah, if any of you guys have some idea where this could go, I'm all ears^^`  
> I get half baked ideas, but they never form coherant sentences, so please, inspiration^^`


	9. Part 2: Peace.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack get re-used to life, with a few additions (like 'evil' alter egos and a new intimate twist in their friendship)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance if it gets a little difficult to differentiate narration from thought-speech but I can't think of any way to mark the difference as italics means the alter ego is thought-speaking.

Marks PoV.

It was working, for me at least. This mess of friendship and/or boyfriendship. Neither had officially asked the other out, but we just fitted together like two correct jigsaw pieces. Jack had always been cute; it was even better that Dark approved too. How could he not!? Jack was cute, funny, smart, not to mention gorgeous!  
_Tell me about it! I must add he does look rather ravishing like this._  
At the current moment, we, me and Dark, were straddled across Jack's midriff, painting shapes on his chest with our combined juices.

"Aw Maaaarrrrk, how am I meant guess this one?" Jack's cute little whine caused a smile to tug at my lips. He really was so adorable, all flushed and dishevelled. 

"The same way you figured out the rest." I answer, tracing out the shape of a box with arms and a smiley face, which on second thoughts may be a little hard.  
_It's not that hard! He's just not thinking about it hard enough!_ Yeah your right, Dark. As always.  
I grinned and relayed his words to Jack, who, after protesting a little more, begrudgingly accepted that he wasn't going to get out and set about guessing what I was drawing. 

It had been a few weeks since myself and Darkiplier had become acquainted, and since myself and Jack had become a couple. Again, the speed a human can adapt and the 'abnormal' can become the 'normal' shocked me. It became normal to have Dark here with me, guiding my movements and giving advice. It became normal to have Jack with me in bed every night.

"Err, a cow? " Jacks cautiously asked, his sweet little Irish voice all high-pichted and cute, breaking my train of thought.A laugh escaped my throat.  
_He's always so dumb after cumming, and considering how much he does it, I'm amazed he has any brains the next morning!_  
I laughed at that too, but again, Jack demanded my attention.  
"Mark, what did ye say! That I'm dumb!?" His eyes flashed angrily, but that was all he could do considering his position.  
I sat there confused. Dark, he can't hear you, can he?.  
_No._  
Then why is he mad?  
_You said it out aloud. Remmeber?_  
No?  
_Well you did, trust me._  
Ok, I trust you Dark. I must have been a doof and forgot again. But why did I say tha-  
For the third time this evening, Jack broke through my thoughts.  
"Hey! Earth to Asshole! What the fook did ya mean about me being dumb!?"  
" I mean it was obviously Tiny Box Tim!" My hand had stopped tracing the shape a while ago, but now it scooped up a fingertip-ful and went to paste it down Jacks nose.  
"Obvious my ASS!" He yelled back, deftly dodging my finger and even trying to nip it. His eyes flashed crimson and suddenly it was Anti I had under me.

"Well hello there Anti, had a nice nap?" I purred. I knew Anti had hurt me before, but Dark had explained everything clearly, and it hadn't made any lasting effects, so we were cool.  
"Hi, Dark, nah, Jack kept making sounds and just wouldn't shut up, I guess that was your doing?" He suddenly lurched up and grabbed my collar between his teeth and use my surprise of suddenly having my head yanked down as leverage to somehow flip us over. I grin; Anti grins back, he never did like being bottom. "Yeah, that was me, sorry about that" I joke, not fazed by our sudden change of positions at all.  
"Well just be prepared for me to pay you back sevenfold, Dark. One needs their beauty sleep to keep this completion, you know?"  
"I'd expect nothing less. Oh, and I'm Mark, not Dark but the way"  
"Oh, your eyes were going red so I assumed." Anti shrugged and started wiping the mess of his chest onto my own, down my face and neck, it ticked actually.  
_Why differentiate?_  
Because you're not me.  
_If you say so, hmph._  
Don't be a bubble blowing baby, it's fine. What did he mean by my eyes being red though? Was that you?  
_No. It must have been a trick of the light or something._  
Riiiight... Are you sure your not doing something weird with my eyes?  
_Who are you going to trust, Me, your friend that you trust and listen to, or that bastard that tried to kill you the first time you met!?_  
You! You, Dark. Sorry I questioned you, you don't need to get angry, OK?  
_Good. Sorry, I didn't mean to get angry._ It's OK, I shouldn't have questioned you.

With Dark pacified, I returned my focus to Anti, who seems to be delighted at his handiwork.  
"Are you done yet?" I ask, feeling slightly uncomfortable with cum literally spread everywhere.  
"No! I've only just iced this cake! Now I need to stick it in the oven and then I get to eat it!"  
"Anti, that isn't how you make a cake."  
"Oh well, what a shame" he cackled before putting me into his tight 'oven' and that was that.  
No more words exchanged for the rest of that evening, just sounds of animalistic grunts and the odd gibberish and then snores as we fell asleep on top of each other, like a big overgrown gross sandwich.

Jacks PoV

I woke up first, finding myself stuck to Mark's chest. Oh gods, Anti, what mess have you made here.  
_Oh! Your talking to me again!_  
Don't talk sass to me! You took over! It thought we agreed that you only took over when I said you could.  
_Oh come on, I was bored and you seemed to be having fun, so why couldn't I join in?_  
You know damn well why. You don't even like Mark!  
_Oops, how did you work that out?_ If Anti had a face at that moment in time, he would have grinned sarcastically.  
You just fucked him to fuck with me! And you broke our promise while you were at it!  
Anti's mental voice quietened a bit. _I'm sorry. I won't do it again, Jack... Jack?_

I decided to give him the silent treatment. I still didn't like him, but we had reached an uneasy truce, which, by the way, had just been pissed on.  
On the bright side, being in the subconscious means you don't dream, meaning I didn't get that nightmare I'd been having night after night. Must be **his** fault. I make a mental note to challenge him on that later once I was done with my monologue.

Mental arguments were strange things, it's like you turn inwards and stop noticing the outwards world, and sometimes time passes faster than you realise, and sometimes it's only a second. By the time I refocused back in the real world, I found Mark staring straight back at me.  
"Good morning Jack, I could get used to this view" Mark purred, his deep voice vibrating under my chest.  
"Don't bother, it's not happening again. I've scolded him and I'm currently giving him the silent treatment. He shouldn't be breaking out without my permission anytime soon."  
I start peeling myself off Mark with the intention of showering myself thoroughly before commencing the day.  
"Why are you so mean to him? Me and Dark get on fine. He's actually quite nice once you get to know him. I'm sure Anti is too."  
"Anti's a dick who can't keep his promises."  
Mark seemed to be out of retorts, when he reached out and pulled me into a deep kiss, one which I gladly return. Even with an evil alter-ego inside him, he was still Mark, and I still have him.  
We break contact and it's then that I notice his eyes. They're still brown, but not his usual deep chocolate, but more like someone had been mixing blood of some sort into the chocolate before re-freezing it.  
I pull back, suddenly, I Do Not want to kiss Dark. Darks eyebrows crease in confusion. "What is it Jackaboy?"  
"You're Dark. Only Mark gets to call me that." I growl, feeling betrayed by my own lips.  
Dark's frown deepened. "I am Mark. Dark can't take control, I have him under lock and key."  
"What about your eyes then? Why are they turning red?" Dark, no- Mark freezes and his eyes glaze over, and I recognise he must be having an internal conversation. I took the opportunity to retreat to the bathroom and believe me, a shower has never felt better. 

I was party way through drying myself when I heard movement and then a gasp from our bedroom. I quickly wrapped the towel (green) round my middle and hurried through. Mark was curled on the floor, head in his arms. I rushed forwards and crouched by him.  
"Mark. Mark!" He either can't hear my shouts or he's unable to react. "Mark!!!"  
_It's Dark. He's punishing Mark._  
What!? What's he doing to him?  
_This._

Anti's words don't get time to register before pain lances through my brain. It felt like my head was being impaled on really sharp pencil, but a trillion times larger. I doubled over and curled up, trying to protect my head from its imaginary assailant. And then, just like that, the pain stopped.

What the Fuck was that!?  
_I'm not sure how to explain it, it's just something we can do._  
How come you haven't used it already then? When I've pissed you off or anything?  
Anti's voice was so quiet I had to mentally strain to hear it (if that was a thing) _Because I respect you Jack, and I know it causes immeasurable pain, so I just don't. I want to be your friend, not your enemy and using that certainly wouldn't help._  
Fine, OK! I forgive you! Now if you're really my friend, tell me how to help Mark!  
_Let me take control, I'll try to calm Dark down._  
What!? But you-  
_Trust me Jack, please. I'll keep you conscious and able to see and hear, but I need to get Dark to stop._  
Fine... But why do you need to?  
_because you want him to be free of that pain, and I will do all in my power to achieve what you want._

I was prepared for it this time, the sudden feeling of falling, like I had shrunk down to tiny size and the ground had just vanished beneath me. A burst of reflexive fear but then you remember that you won't hit any bottom, and you can get used to the feeling of weightlessness, and cam instead, 'enjoy' the view of what was happening outside, similar to a cinematic experience. You can see and hear, but not control.  
I feel my body stand up, and I feel my voice command to Dark to come out. It's a strange feeling, like your a puppet under someone else's hands. Through my eyes, but not my eyes, I see Mark stop cowering and sit up, cross legged like he was never in pain, but his completely crimson eyes give away the fact that he's not Mark.  
"Ahh, Anti, how nice of you to join us. I wondered if you'd show up." I see Dark smile, wide, buy lacking in any warmth.  
"Dark. Why are you punishing Mark?" Anti is all business, I can tell it from my, his voice.  
"The little runt was questioning me. I gave him a fair warning but he just wouldn't listen, so now I'm punishing him."  
"I thought you said you weren't going to actively take the body? How's he ever going to trust you now?" I feel my face frown.  
On contrary, Darks lights up. "I'll just erase his memories. I'll erase the pain and me taking over, but he can keep the fear of the pain. That should be enough to keep him in line."  
I can't hide my shock at Dark's statement.  
What!? You can do that, Anti?  
_Yeah, we can mess with your thoughts and memories, but again, I don't want to control you, I want to trust you._  
Anti. Let me take control.  
_But he might hurt you!_  
You want me to trust you? Help me by giving my body back Now.  


The sensation is just as strange, coming back into control. It feels like all the nerves in my body awaken at once, in one massive pins-and-needles fest. It only lasts a second at most, but it's still unpleasant none the less; though this time, I'm infazed. I take a step and close the distance between me and Dark.  
He looks up at me, and before he can register what I'm about to do, I raise my fist and slam it as fast and as hard as I can into his jaw.  
Punching something hard, like someone's jaw hurts. I feel my knuckles crack on the impact and pull it back, shaking the pain out.  
Dark scowled and rubbed his face, his eyes narrowing. "Got quite the punch there, haven't you, Jack?"  
"Let Mark go, ye bastard." I knew it was a risk, I could just be angering Dark more, which would result in more pain for Mark, and most likely me too, but I couldn't think of what else to say.  
"Ugh, fine. It's no fun out here without Anti anyway. You can have your pathetic little runt back."  
Mark appeared to slump backwards and I crouched down to catch him before his head hit the floor. 

A few seconds later, Mark was back with us. His eyes opened and they were the purest brown I'd seen in what felt like days. "Mark! Are you alright?"  
He groaned and rubbed his eyes as if he's just been sleeping. It was kinda adorable.  
"Yeah, sorry, must have fallen asleep coming to visit you in the shower. Sorry, did I make you get out early?"  
His comment reminded me that j was naked bar a town around my waist, and I felt my cheeks flush.  
"It's fine, you were on the floor I'm pain because Dark was killing your brain. Mark, you have to keep him under you! You are the owner of this body, not him!"  
Mark seemed to gain some life after that comment, pulling out of my hold and standing up but before I could get my hopes up that he's seen sense, Mark opened his mouth and retorted "I know you don't like Anti, but Dark is my friend. I AM in control, and I'm keeping on top of his games. I just fell asleep suddenly! It's fine! Leave Dark out of this!"  
"No he's not! He's the reason you were on the floor in the first place!"I can't help but yell back, but I needed to make Mark see sense.  
"You lier! Dark didn't do that! You want to know how I know, I asked him! Like a civil friend would do! And you know what, he told me you punched me! Maybe THATS why I forgot!" With that, he stormed off through the bathroom door, presumably to attend to his rapidly swelling bruise.  
"Mark!" I tried to call after him but was cut off by a rather rude response telling me to go and skrew myself. 

_Leave him, he'll come round._ How can you be sure? _Because he loves you, that's how._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is me kinda getting back into typing, and while it may not hold much plot, it was a more to try and attempt to develop the character or Jack and Mark, and their relationship with Anti and Dark. More plot stuff coming soon. As soon as I get round to writing it, atleast.  
> Comment welcome, as always^^

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic, comments are welcome^^  
> I'm not sure how much I will update, I'm sure nagging would make it happen fasted though.  
> I have a vague idea of how things will unfold but I may need some help with plot futher on^^`


End file.
